


His Princess

by Evelyn6



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle Has Magic, F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform, Young Rumbelle, spinner rumple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8281502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evelyn6/pseuds/Evelyn6
Summary: Rumplestiltskin hadn't known what to expect when Lady Colette brought him to stay at Avonlea castle, but it certainly wasn't a beautiful young brunette with startlingly blue eyes- and magic.





	1. Chapter 1

Belle hadn't meant to hurt anyone; truly she hadn't. All she'd wanted was one afternoon outside of the castle walls, the sun on her face as she read beneath the willow tree in the garden that she could see from her room. It looked lovely outside and it was spring and she felt fine as she woke up that morning. Surely a few hours in the garden wouldn't lead to disaster.

Then Gaston had shown up. Gaston, with his tree trunk limbs and his arrogant smile and his tendency to look down on every single thing about her - from the fact that she didn't care for hunting to the fact that she liked to read. Gaston, who was bigger than her and stronger than her and who swiped her book straight out of her hands and tossed it over his shoulder into the mud.

He hadn't cared that the book was important to her. It meant nothing to him that her mother had given her that book on the day that everything changed; the day she found out she was _different_. It meant nothing to him that she had read it a thousand times since; her talisman when things became too much to bear. No, Gaston had just laughed at the anguished look on her face and told her that perhaps if she took her nose out of a book for two minutes that everyone wouldn't think she was so _odd._

She just wanted him to leave her alone.

She had felt the spark at her fingertips, the warmth that flooded through her body as her cheeks flushed, and she knew she needed to calm down. If her mother had been there, she would have said something in her soothing voice, reminded her that she was in control and told her that everything was okay. She tried to take a deep breath, but she felt like she was vibrating and her vision went hazy as she stared at her precious book where it sat soaking with mud.

Gaston must have reached for her, because the next thing she knew everything exploded with a blast of light and suddenly Gaston was on the floor a good five yards away from her.

She knew that the cry she heard was her own because it couldn't have come from the unmoving figure before her. She looked down at her hands, whimpering at the sight of the noxious blue smoke as it curled around her skin and trying to shake it away.

"Belle!" she heard in her father's booming voice, and Gods but if that didn't just make things worse. She pulled her knees to her chest, trapping her arms between them and her chest, and tried to pull herself back together again as the patter of footsteps came closer.

He didn't touch her; of course not. The footsteps went straight to Gaston, and she pressed her forehead to her knees as she tried to get her breathing under control again.

"Oh, Belle..." a softer, kinder voice called.

And now Belle did look up, her anguished eyes finding her mother where she was running across the yard. Colette did come to her, dropping to her knees to wrap her daughter up in her arms and brush her hand over the back of her head as she cooed nonsense into her ear.

"It's alright now, sweetheart," she whispered.

"I didn't mean to, Mother. I was just trying to read. He surprised me and... It was an accident, I swear," Belle pleaded, turning her wide blue eyes to her mother's worried face.

Colette nodded, hushing her. "I know, Belle, I know. Are you alright?"

"Is _she_  alright?" her father huffed. Belle cringed, but her mother simply gave him an irritated look and ushered her to her feet.

"Gaston will be fine. Let's just get you inside," she said, her voice calm and reassuring.

Belle looked over her shoulder to where Gaston was coming to, the heel of his hand against his temple but looking more or less fine, if a bit surprised. Her father was clapping him on the shoulder, a nervous smile on his wide face as he said something about the lad watching his step - it was slippery with the mud from yesterday's rain, you know. Belle ducked her head and let her mother lead her back inside the castle, the familiar walls closing around her again and blocking out the sun.

They were quiet as they made their way through the halls and corridors that led to Belle's chambers. Belle kept her hands clasped carefully behind her back and focused on her steps and her mother's steady breathing beside her. They didn't pass many people as they went. The castle used to be a bustling, cheerful sort of place, full of light and music and people. There were attendants and guards and a whole staff who had more than happy to indulge the curious little princess who spent most of her time poking her nose into places it wasn't supposed to be.

All that had changed when Belle turned twelve.

She had woken up bright and early that day, determined to make the most of her birthday. Her father had promised her a morning of riding and she had rushed down to the stables as soon as she'd dressed, barely bothering with breakfast except for the muffin Mrs. Potts had practically shoved at her with a fond shake of her head. Riding was one of Belle's favorite pastimes, and it wasn't often that Papa had time to go with her, so she'd been nothing but smiles as he hoisted her up on Philippe's back and they set out to stroll along the castle grounds.

Neither of them had noticed the hunting party emerge from the forest, nor the dogs they had along with them. That is, until one of the dogs saw the horses and bolted towards them. Maurice's horse was used to hunting dogs, but Philippe was much younger and inexperienced, and the sight of a barking bloodhound barreling toward him sent him into a panic. He reared back and while Belle was an accomplished rider in her own right, she didn't have enough time to react. The saddle slipped and her with it, and she was about to slam into the floor when she felt it.

A spark.

The fall never happened. Instead, she landed softly on her feet - ten yards away. Safe, unharmed, and absolutely stunned.

The commotion that happened afterwards was worse than the one with the horses. Instead of the birthday party she had been looking forward to that day, her father had closed the castle and summoned his most trusted advisors, clerics and fairies poking and prodding until the problem was unmistakable: Belle had magic.

While magic wasn't uncommon in the Enchanted Forest, it was usually reserved for fairies and mystical beasts, wielders who were born into a long line of magic and who had people to tutor them. It wasn't supposed to show up in otherwise ordinary young girls. None of the children (or the adults, for that matter) in Avonlea had magic. Neither of her parents had any experience with it, either.

The fairy they had summoned, Blue, hadn't been too happy about the news. She insisted that Belle should have her powers stripped. Colette, however, had refused. Belle's mother insisted that her magic was a part of her. A gift, she called it. Maurice had argued, but Colette wouldn't hear any of it. She promised to look out for Belle, to help her learn to control it, and perhaps someday help her use it for good.

That was five years ago.

Five years, and the castle had slowly become emptier and emptier as the staff moved on to positions where they didn't have to worry about a tiny little brunette who could conjure a rainstorm simply because she was sad. At seventeen, Belle should be attending balls and learning the ins and outs of running a kingdom. Instead, she spent most of her time in the company of her books and with the few members of the staff who were fond enough of her to stay.

And then there was Gaston, she reminded herself with a groan. He was the son of a local duke and quite determined to rise above his father's status, even if it meant pursuing Avonlea's odd princess. He had been courting her for months - if his brutish behavior could be called such. Belle was dreading the day her father would arrange for them to be married, but with her being what she was (and her prospects thus being what they were), she feared she wouldn't have much of a choice.

He would be so disappointed with her for what had happened today. It didn't matter that she hadn't had an incident in months. It didn't matter that Gaston was not supposed to be coming to the castle that day and had thus taken her by surprise. All that mattered was that he had been reminded, again, that even though all may seem normal, his little girl was still very much not.

"I know your father is glad you're alright, Belle," her mother said softly as they finally entered her rooms, guessing what was on Belle's mind.

Belle couldn't bring herself to answer. She knew her father cared for her, but he never had been able to accept her magic. Maurice didn't like the unknown, and since even Belle didn't fully know what she was capable of, that placed her squarely in the 'to be feared' category.

She supposed she couldn't blame him. Her magic scared her at times, too. But she hadn't asked to be born this way and, really, she did have it mostly under control. Mostly.

Sometimes she just... slipped.

She sighed as she flopped onto the cushions of her reading nook, nestled between two full walls of books with the view of the garden that had gotten her into trouble.

"Shall I ring Mrs. Potts and have lunch brought up?" Colette asked. Belle knew this wasn't about lunch, though.

"I'm fine, Mother. Really," she told her, trying to inflect as much sincerity into her voice as she could.

Colette finally let her shoulders relax and smiled, the worry leaving her face at last. "I'll ring for her anyway," she said before ducking out and leaving Belle alone once again.

Belle was used to it, she supposed. The quiet didn't bother her anymore. After all, she had her books, and a thousand stories with which to fill her head and give her the adventure she'd always dreamed of. Still, there were times when she wished that she had... someone. A friend who she hadn't grown up with, who wouldn't look at her and feel sad for what she'd lost and the burden she bore. Someone who could simply see  _her_.

She sighed and looked around the spacious rooms, her ears perked for any prying eyes. Certain she was alone, she took a deep breath and focused, channeling the power that was always simmering beneath her skin and harnessing it into her palm. Magic oozed from her fingertips, caressing her hand as if it were eager to do her bidding and she felt the familiar, comforting warmth it always brought wrap around her like blanket, chasing away her loneliness. For all that her father feared it, and her mother for her, Belle had to admit that this part of her always felt  _right._

With a smile, she looked down at the book she'd conjured in her hand, not a speck of mud marring its crisp pages any longer. She leaned back contentedly against the pillows and flipped to the chapter where she had left off, peace settling over her at last.

She may be cursed, but magic did have its uses. And until she did find someone, she supposed it was as good a companion as any.


	2. Chapter 2

 

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Potts," Colette greeted as she rounded the corner of the hall that led to the castle kitchens, a wide smile on her face when she spotted the older woman sneaking a peach tartlet from the morning's tea tray on the counter beside her.

"Oh! Milady!" her friend chirped, whirling around on her feet with her hand pressed to her chest. "I didn't expect you to stop by."

Colette hummed, her eyes teasing as she joined the other woman and took a small tartlet for herself. She was fond of the kitchens, of the constant bustle and the smells and the way it always felt warm in the busy space. Even now, she could smell lamb stew brewing in the hearth, and the tang of bread rising. And of course Mrs. Potts's tarts were a lovely bonus.

"I was wondering if you might have a plate that you could bring up for Belle," Colette asked, her amusement fading as her thoughts returned to the incident that happened earlier.

"Of course. Is everything alright?" Mrs. Potts asked beside her.

Colette sighed as she fiddled with the remainder of her tart, not quite sure how to answer that question. What happened that afternoon had left her feeling sad, mostly. Certainly not afraid. She knew that Belle would never intentionally hurt anyone. Her daughter had a heart of gold, and no amount of magic would ever change that. Her only regret was that Belle's gift had left her somewhat isolated from others her age.

At first, the castle had emptied to keep her safe; to allow her a place to grow up and come into her own - and her magic - without the pressures that came with people constantly coming around the corner or popping unexpectedly into her rooms. Now, Colette could see the mistake in having kept so few of the staff. Belle was lonely. She could see it in her daughter's eyes, could see the heartbreak as she returned to the castle. Belle was made to be in the light; to laugh and form friendships, to perhaps even fall in love. No, things were not alright.

Still, she nodded, not wanting to worry Mrs. Potts. The other woman pursed her lips but seemed to accept her answer, flitting with ease around the kitchen as she put a tray of lunch together. She kept up a steady stream of chatter as she did, and though Colette suspected it was more to ease her nerves than anything else, she appreciated the distraction. It made her happy to hear how people in town were doing, and she asked after some of the local merchants as Mrs. Potts told her of her visit that morning. It was the town's spinner, however, whose story caught her particular attention.

"Griffin says the boy showed up a few days ago, thin as can be. He's about the same age as the mistress; says his aunts just passed and he doesn't have any other family. Griffin says he's got talent with a spinning wheel, though," Mrs. Potts praised as she filled a bowl with a ladleful of stew. "He came looking for an apprenticeship. Griffin couldn't bear to turn him away, even though he barely gets by as it is. Says the boy is too gentle to be thrown to the streets. He's been staying in the barn until Griffin can find another place for him- Milady?"

"Forgive me, Mrs. Potts. I need to go to town," Colette said hurriedly as she wolfed down the rest of her tart and rushed towards the door. "Will you make sure the tray gets up to Belle?"

Mrs. Potts blinked at her with surprise. "O-Of course."

Colette nodded and gave the other woman an eager smile before she turned on her heel and hurried down the hall. It was mere minutes before she had an escort readying her horse and, after sending word to her husband, she was making her way in the direction of the market - and the spinner's shop not far behind it - with something like fate fluttering in her chest.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin slowed the spinning wheel to a stop beneath his fingers, pulling a short length of his spun thread from the bobbin to hold up for inspection.

"That's fine work, lad," Mr. Griffin huffed beside him, and he felt his heart clench at the man's approval, ducking his head to hide a proud smile behind his long hair.

"Thank you, sir," he said shyly.

"Are you sure I can't pay you for your trouble?," Mr. Griffin asked for about the third time that day. "You've spun more wool these past few days than I could manage in a week."

Rumplestiltskin gave him a small smile, but shook his head. "You've already given me more than I could ask for, sir. And it's no trouble. I like feeling useful," he admitted.

Indeed, when he had shown up in Avonlea with nothing but the clothes on his back and a few coins left over from his aunts' estate, he had been terrified as to the reception he would receive in the small kingdom. He had gone to Mr. Griffin because spinning was the only talent he had. Though the spinner's shop was obviously too small to require an assistant, the man had offered him a place to sleep for a few nights and a warm meal. That was worth more than gold to him.

He was about to start the wheel again when there was a knock at the door and he startled. Mr. Griffin patted him on the shoulder with a small chuckle before he left to answer. He let his eyes wander across the small shop, curiosity building despite himself. The man who entered looked like a guard, and Rumplestiltskin's heart immediately sunk with trepidation. Not that he had done anything wrong, of course, but old habits died hard (and his father's reputation as a gambler had been following him his whole life).

The two men talked for a moment, and Rumplestiltskin relaxed when the guard smiled. But his brow furrowed when he stepped aside to admit a woman he didn't recognize. She was beautiful; short, with a head of brown hair and the fine skirts he knew meant she was someone important.

His chin dropped as if on instinct, and he kept quiet as he watched her hug Mr. Griffin, the two of them smiling like old friends. His eyes went wide when his benefactor gestured towards him. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the lady was smiling as she spoke and Mr. Griffin nodded before he caught his eye and waved him over.

Rumplestiltskin swallowed and got to his feet hesitantly, trying to brush out his wrinkled clothes before he made his way over to them.

"Lad, there is someone who would like to meet you," Mr. Griffin announced cheerfully.

The lady smiled warmly at him. "I'm Lady Colette."

His eyes went wide. "You're the... You're the Queen of Avonlea."

He bowed awkwardly, trying to remember his late aunts' teachings in spite of his shock. He didn't know much about Avonlea, but one didn't travel to a neighboring kingdom without at least knowing who ran it. As it was, Lady Colette was revered even as far as the Frontlands. People spoke highly of her kindness and generosity. Her kingdom may be a small one, but it was fair, and it had been that more than anything that had drawn him there when he lost what remained of his family and livelihood.

She didn't laugh at his awkward manners, just dipped her head slightly and kept on smiling. "Indeed I am. It's a pleasure to meet you Rumplestiltskin."

He didn't mean to blush, but his cheeks warmed anyway at the sound of his name. Lady Colette chuckled, but seemed to recognize his tied tongue since she didn't wait for him to answer.

"I hear you've just come to Avonlea and are in need of a place to stay."

"Oh." He blinked, his eyes darting between the Lady and Mr. Griffin. "Well, yes. But I'm sure I'll find something." He always did, after all.

"Well, I may have a position for you, if you're interested," she told him.

He felt his mouth drop open, and it took Lady Colette's giggle and Mr. Griffin nudging his arm with his elbow for him to finally recover enough to snap his jaw shut. Then he opened it right up again to blurt out, "Yes!" a bit too loudly.

Both adults chuckled but seemed pleased at his enthusiasm - or his answer. Either way, Lady Colette was summoning the guard to her again as he tried to comprehend his good fortune.

"We're going to need an extra horse, Charles."

The guard nodded his head, looking at Rumplestiltskin curiously. His eyes were kind though, so Rumplestiltskin let his shoulders relax as Lady Colette spoke a bit more with Mr. Griffin before initiating their goodbyes. He didn't have any belongings, so it was a simple task to thank Mr. Griffin for his kindness. The man gave him a burly hug and told him he was welcome back anytime he felt the urge to spin, and Rumplestiltskin left behind Lady Colette with a smile.

There were horses saddled and waiting just outside the shop, along with a small escort of guards. One of the guards, Charles, stepped forward to direct him to a black mare and he took the reins with a slight tremble in his hands.

"If I may ask, milady. Where are we going?" he asked the Lady beside him.

Lady Colette grinned. "Why, to the castle, of course."


End file.
